Teasing Foregone
by McGonagall's Bola
Summary: Hermione and Minerva have both been very busy lately with a new school year steadily coming nearer – too busy to show each other love even. However, busy times settle sometime… HG/MM -REWRITTEN!


BETA READ by _renircx_ & _pigy190_, through **Project Team Beta.**

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Minerva's back arched up from the mattress as undulated satisfaction rolled through her body, spidering through her veins to touch every part of her. Her skin had begun tingling with need and growing anticipation. Her green eyes were tightly closed as they always were while making mad love with the younger woman, her wife. As she did so, the elder woman could literally feel Hermione's love upon and over her. She always liked feeling love over seeing it. Either way, feeling gave her a very good idea what could be seen if she did open her eyes. The sight of Hermione as she coiled in utter bliss under the elder witch's touch herself or when they both laid in post-lovemaking bliss topped anything really. No, scratch that.

The most ultimate sight was actually the one that was offered to her upon opening her eyes in the morning to faint rays of sunlight persistently batting their way in from beyond the dark curtains: the sight of waking next to Hermione.

Many times already had Hermione found herself being woken by a very needy Minerva. The sight of Hermione right beside her in bed, hair mussed and spread over the pillow, her bare milky shoulders and back due to the sheet usually draped nearly carelessly over what she knew to be her nude figure… always filled Minerva with an intense feeling of inexplicable, immediate happiness – which mostly had something clench tightly in her lower abdomen as well. _Need._

"Ah!" Minerva's head lifted for but a moment, then fell into the pillows again, a soft moan escaping the elder woman's lips as Hermione finally moved onwards, running a single digit across the side of wet nether lips, a gentle kiss falling to Minerva's inner thigh.

It had been a very tiresome few days, filled with meetings with the Board of Governors as a new year at Hogwarts steadily neared. Both of them had been far too tired to do anything else but sleep in their bed in the last week and a half. Thus, Minerva wasn't sure if she could take the usual amount of teasing involved as they made love to each other. She wouldn't last very long tonight.

Two years into their marriage this far, Hermione had learned just where and how to touch the elder Gryffindor to elicit the responses from her that she wanted.

Her hips bucked up and down a few times as she tried to entice Hermione to forego the usual banter. It happened more often than one would believe, and mostly Hermione did not give in. It lead to more satisfying orgasms, to keep on denying requests to hasten herself further and get Minerva to orgasm. Minerva herself had once admitted it to be true – of course she never would at a point like that, lying in the middle of the bed, fingers clutching the headboard and the sheet underneath them both, legs spread to accommodate her wife.

The amount of wetness coating her own now swollen folds and the burning need fluttering in Hermione's own abdomen gave her a very good idea of how needy Minerva actually was. The knowledge that in the last two weeks they had not been intimate and that Minerva always enjoyed being made love to by her, made her choose better not to tease tonight.

Minerva's hips bucked hard as she felt warm wetness slide between her folds upwards ever so slowly, tingles taking over as soon as the tongue had passed, air hitting her very wet sex. A low groan rumbled deep in her throat as her lover's tongue slipped over her bundle of nerves, right where her inner folds came together. The single digit repeated its previous path this time from downwards up and back down ever so slowly.

She couldn't really describe how very different the feeling of a tongue upon her sex actually felt as opposed to anything else, but… she knew it was Hermione's tongue sweeping gently near her tender clit. Tears welled in her eyes with need. It had been far too long. Her grip upon the headboard and the sheet first slackened then tightened as she tried to refrain herself from tangling both of her hands in Hermione's hair and guiding her head up and down, back and forth faster… She would come in seconds. She very much wanted to, and she herself enjoyed it when Hermione did it to her. She enjoyed knowing she had pushed her wife to the edge of losing entire control.

Hermione's ever so observant gaze had not failed to notice Minerva's hands tightening their already crushing grip. She knew why well enough. Retracting just a bit then, Hermione lowered herself to look at her wife's enticing sex. The hand tracing the side of it stilled, forefinger and middle finger quietly moving to spread swollen, dark pink nether lips… exposing the innermost secret spot of Minerva McGonagall to her.

The most most ever got to see of her was the reserved and strict headmistress of Hogwarts, the Gryffindor – not the woman beneath. She felt quite privileged to have been allowed into her life, far enough to see further than that – to have been accepted when she so desperately looked for advice and a shoulder to cry on when her marriage with Ron had begun to fall apart. It sure had been more of a process than anything, stretching over years in which especially Hermione had tried to keep them together… but he hadn't seemed to see it, hadn't seemed to recognize their ruling issues as serious enough. There had been many.

He had never cheated on her or anything of the kind. He had always been a great father as well, despite his usual carelessness. However, they hardly had done anything together anymore but sleep… and fuck. In the last few years it had always been just fucking, straying far from making love.

She was truly eternally grateful to have run into the headmistress at the Hog's Head that one night four years earlier. The children had been with the Weasleys, Ron at another pub with some colleagues.

The Hog's Head was known to be filled with people who wanted to disappear sometime – you never needed go to the Three Broomsticks for that, where you were always recognized and addressed by someone. That night, Hermione surely had wanted to disappear – from the growing realization that Ron and she were parting and that she could not fix them, and certainly not as long as he diminished her worries as nothing.

A stroke of lucky coincidence had happened, for Minerva had come in not long after her, seemingly having been in need of some disappearing as well. Both women had begun to talk each of their own thoughts and concerns, more freely with each glass of Firewhiskey down.

She never would have expected to receive a little letter from the headmistress herself the morning after, telling her that she had enjoyed seeing her again and having talked to her and reminding her that she was always there if Hermione ever needed to talk, for she knew how rare it actually was to have someone who listened and seemed to get her. Understanding had never been an issue between them after all.

Hermione could not say that there had been only unhappy twists in the story of her and Ron, for she certainly had learned happiness and joy – for instance at the births of Rose and Hugo – but the ending had been clouded by serious uncertainty over its happiness. So she had chosen to scratch what she feared to be a couple of awful chapters filled with more fights and more pain for both themselves and their family, their children… and had chosen to take her own story in hand, changing destiny a bit.

Conversations between them soon increased in both quantity and quality. Neither could have guessed those would grow into something so powerful, that she could very well be the key point of the story – Hermione's happy ending.

"Please…" Minerva eventually whimpered as she slowly felt the last of her resolve dissolving. She knew that gooseflesh had spread over her skin upon feeling Hermione's warm breath upon her wet folds, Hermione blowing upon her then as she knew Minerva liked this. She sincerely hoped to make Hermione see that she was not okay with being teased this time by trying to pour her need in that one word, though.

Minerva's breath had grown heavy since she had pressed her lips against hers, had begun to undress her while guiding her to the bed. Her chest heaved as she pleaded for Hermione to just… touch her, no more teasing now. Minerva's back arched up hard as she felt that delicious tongue slip over her clit, going back and forth in directions she couldn't quite say. It just felt so good… to good to ponder about it really. Her head rose from the pillows again for but a moment, a loud moan coming from her as she felt plump lips lock settled upon the most sensitive spot of her being, suckling lustily as her two fingers released her folds and slipped down, tracing slowly back and forth over her opening. Her pelvic bone jerked upward in an effort to get those fingers somewhat closer, hopefully even so far as inside her…

She thought that Hermione would not give in – a loud groan slipping from thin lips as she in fact did and sank two fingers into her depths, filling the lonely crevice that had so begged and so yearned to be filled, to feel… whole.

The feeling of fulfillment morphed to building satisfaction as those fingers moved inside her – immediately fast. Hermione had understood that she had passed the point of slow strokes now. The air left the older woman's lungs in chugs already, the witch gasping loud occasionally as Hermione seemed to pump the very air from her being. She could not say anything but that she would not last long. An orgasm was already fluttering in her lower abdomen, growing fast… Hermione's lips slid off of her pearl, moving aside for that mad tongue that began sliding back and forth fast, immediately setting her erect clit on fire.

Minerva's head lulled to the side, her hips raised high into the air, offering Hermione better access to pump deep into her – which she happily did, slightly shifting the angle of her rapid thrusts and going slightly harder.

As she struggled for breath in between moaning her delight – not enough air left to speak anymore – Minerva's pelvis jerked to and fro to match the movement of Hermione's fingers. Her body was slipping from her own control. She was entirely under Hermione's spell. She was… coming, unaware of how her whole body spasmed at that one last thrust of wholeness, then collapses on the bed, needing to regain breath. The only sound that she heard was that of blood rushing in her ears as the darkness shifting between either lighter or darker underneath closed eyelids was now the only thing she saw. She failed to notice Hermione having slipped from between her thighs and upward to lie on her side beside her, watching her with an amused smile.

It did take her a few seconds until she felt convinced enough she would be seeing more than just stars as she opened her eyes and would be able to voice intelligible words. She turned her gaze aside to look at her younger wife, her darkened green eyes and her still slightly heaving upper body giving away what she tried to hide in her voice. "You're amazing," Minerva whispered.

Hermione slightly wiggled her eyebrows, forefinger curling at a very satisfied Minerva suggestively. She cried both in surprise and anticipated delight as Minerva launched herself at her wife much like a famished tigress, straddling her.

Her hands immediately moved to pin Hermione's wrists above her head. Darkened honey colored eyes begged for Minerva to take her even if she remained quiet.

"It now seems like someone needs the proof."


End file.
